Caterpillar Rounders
by incendiopuff
Summary: England gets annoyed when Italy drags the nations outside for a game of caterpillar rounders, and things take off from there... USUK
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Well, the world conference meeting definitely hadn't gone to plan and by the look on Germany's face, England wasn't the only one annoyed about it. England sighed as an overbearing Italy, supported by China and America, had dragged everyone outside in the cold to play 'Caterpillar Rounders'.

As England watched everyone taking sides, he knew it wouldn't be fair, seeing as Russia was playing and he would take any opportunity to cheat, however, Germany was refereeing so hopefully he would prevent this. England stood at the edge of the crowd and tried to be like Canada: unnoticeable. To be honest, he really didn't want to play with any of these idiots.

Suddenly France grabbed his hand. "Ah, Angleterre, come and join our team!' He chuckled his perverted French laugh and dragged England over to where China, America, Japan, Sealand, Poland, Canada and Prussia were standing.

France pushed him to the end of the line and went to stand behind Prussia, who had picked up a bat. England shivered as he stood next to America, who was already cheering Prussia on. He vaguely noticed the members on the other team (mostly Russia and his subordinates) spread themselves around the pitch, ready to catch the ball.

Belarus was bowling and she swung a curve-ball at Prussia. His bat collided with the ball with an ear splitting crack which sent it way over the heads of the opposing team.

Abruptly, America grabbed England's hand. "Come on Britain! We've gotta run!"

"Let go of me you imbecile!"

His protests fell on deaf ears and he had to run as America dragged him along. He looked around and saw that Canada had sat in a corner, muttering: "They forgot me again…"

England decided that if he was forced to play the game then he would play it well, so he sped up his running, attempting to match America's speed so that he would let go of his hand but it was impossible; America was just too fast.

"America slow down, dammit!"

"We're almost there Britain!"

He was right. Lithuania was just picking up the ball and the rest of Russia's team were running over to get in line. The 4th post was drawing nearer and they were going to make it. America suddenly put on another burst of speed, but he tripped over just before they reached the post, dragging England on top of him. He let out a feeble moan.

England glared at him. "You git! What the hell was that for! You can't even play a game of damn Rounders now?" He vaguely realised that France was staring at him with an expression on his face that looked even more perverted than usual, if that was possible. He also saw Italy whispering excitedly to Germany who was looking at them with interest. Britain ignored them as he tried not to strangle America.

"Awww Britain, give it a rest…"

England leant closer to America so that no-one else could hear him. "France is going to tease me for years about this you idiot!"

"Britain, you're crushing me…"

England looked down and realised that he was straddling America. Suddenly, the looks the other nations were giving him made more sense. A light blush appeared on his cheeks and he got up, brushing down his clothes and without another word, he strode away.

America slowly raised himself so he was leaning on one arm and a grin spread across his face. He hardly heard France say, "Angleterre et Amérique, eh?" as he jumped to his feet and sprinted after England.

"Hey, Britain! Wait up dude!"

England turned a corner and leant against the wall of the Houses of Parliament (where the conference had taken place earlier). America sprinted around the corner and doubled over, trying to regain his breath.

"Britai-"

"What do you want America?"

America stood up, still panting slightly and he walked over to where England was, placing his hands against the wall so that he was trapped. Slowly he bent down and pressed their lips together.

"That is what I wanted."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

England stared at the rows upon rows of fine multi-coloured threads that decorated his favourite sewing shop. Buttons and beads winked at him from neatly stacked boxes and a long row of needles glinted, just waiting to be bought. He would have enjoyed picking and choosing what he needed if France wasn't continually pestering him.

"So, Angleterre, why did you not tell me you and Amérique are together, huh?"

"Because we're not, you idiot! How many times must I tell you before it gets through your thick skull?"

France leaned against a stack of beads right next to England, way in his personal space. "Don't lie to me Angleterre, it was pretty obvious you've been together a while. The position you two were in was definitely rehearsed." He winked slyly.

England's face reddened in a mixture of embarrassment and anger and he spoke through gritted teeth. "That was a mistake! The stupid fool pulled me over." He grabbed a couple of needles to replenish his supplies (The Fair Folk kept stealing them) and he strode in the opposite direction to France, over to where the cotton was.

France followed him, still grinning, and decided on a different tact. "So, what does Amérique think of your sewing? I wouldn't have thought he would have gone for someone so, well, old-fashioned."

"Sewing is not old-fashioned. It is a practical pastime. Now, if you wouldn't mind I have some shopping to do, so feel free to leave!"

"So rude, Angleterre!" France frowned a little but didn't leave. Instead he spent the next few minutes following England around the shop in silence. England was just beginning to calm down, thinking that maybe France's enquiries were over, until…

"So, is Amérique good in bed?"

"FOR GOD'S SAKE FRANCE, IF YOU DON'T LEAVE RIGHT NOW THEN I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KNOCK THE-"

France clapped his hand over England's mouth and stared into the other nation's furious eyes. "Non, non, non! You wouldn't want to ruin your gentlemanly reputation now would you! Anyway, I'm guessing America would be topping, you don't seem like the type." He laughed and walked out of the shop, blowing a group of girls a kiss on the way out.

England stared after him in shock and anger. Like that idiot new anything about him! There was nothing between him and America but now he would never hear the last of it. And he could top if he damn well liked! Suddenly, he realised what he was thinking and he blushed even more as images came unbidden into his mind. He shook his head furiously and tried to rid himself of the images as he carried on choosing things from the shop.

However, he couldn't help his mind lingering on France's words and he kept thinking more and more furious thoughts about him. There definitely wasn't anything between him and America! Sure, he HAD fallen on top of him, but that was America's fault, the bloody git! And then afterwards, America HAD kissed him behind the Houses of Parliament, but no-one knew about that. Anyway, England had soon pushed him away… after kissing him back a little. No, no, no! He shouldn't be thinking about this! There was nothing between America and him. Nothing! And America should understand that now, since England had promptly broken his nose after the kiss.

Suddenly England realised that he was at the counter and the lady at the till was staring at him questioningly. He gathered that he must have been making some strange faces as he internally battled with himself.

"Err, just these today please." He piled the products onto the table and watched as she passed them through the till one by one. The process was slow, but eventually he had paid for the goods and was walking down one of the busy streets of London to his house. When he got there he dumped his sewing materials down on the table and went to start making some tea.

He dumped the tea bag into the cup. "I wonder, what America is doing right now?" He shoved some sugar in, a little roughly. "Well, that's none of your damn business, is it England?" He put the kettle on the boil and grabbed some scones from the plate on the counter. "He's probably playing some idiotic video games anyway. How immature." He sighed a little.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and the sound of his letterbox being opened. "Hey, England, I wanna talk to you ok, so… open the door?"

England stiffened a little, and didn't even notice when the kettle stopped boiling. What in the name of hell was America doing here? He stood completely still, not wanting America to realise he was at home.

"Awww, come on man. I know your there, I saw you walking in here like ten minutes ago."

Sighing, England stomped towards the front door and pulled it open. "So first you kiss me and now your my bloody stalker, what the he-", he cut off abruptly when he saw America. He thought America would be standing there with his usually grin on his face but instead he looked kind of.. sad? Guilty?

America opened his mouth to retort, but then seemed to think better of it. He tried again. "I-I wasn't stalking you… I just came to say, that I'm sorry about what happened... I thought-", he frowned and cut off again. "Well, anyway…" he looked a bit uncomfortable. "So yeah, well, I'm sorry dude, that's all I came to say so I suppose I'd better go…"

England's mouth was open in surprise but he regained his composure. "No need for that. Come on in, I was just making some tea."

America's face split into a grin and he came inside enthusiastically. "Got any coffee instead?"

England sighed and muttered to himself as he shut the door. "What on earth has got into you recently you bloody idiot…?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – 

America was grabbing some instant coffee in England's kitchen when said nation walked through the door. He sighed when he saw him. "Do you usually just take refreshments from other people's homes? The proper way would be for me to offer you some and then serve it to you." He grabbed the kettle and carried on making himself some tea.

"Well, if you wanna do it for me, I'm not complaining! Just thought I'd save you some work, that's all!" Happily, America shoved his coffee towards England and slumped on the squishy sofa in the corner of the room.

England sighed and finished making the coffee and the tea and brought them over to the sofa, along with some scones. However, when he tried to offer them to America he pulled a disgusted face and pushed them away. "Haha, no way! I've had way too many bad experiences with your cooking!"

"Well, there's no need to be rude about it. And get your feet off the sofa, it's bad manners."

America muttered 'Couch…' under his breath but took his feet away as England sat down next to him. He looked around the room wonderingly. "Wow, I haven't been here in years and this place hasn't changed one bit!"

England didn't reply and took a sip of his tea, burning his tongue a little.

America looked at him, concerned. "Hey, you okay?" He threw an arm around England casually.

"I'm perfectly alright thank you." England shrugged off his arm and leant forward, hoping his hair would conceal the light blush that he knew was on his cheeks. He suddenly wished he had sat somewhere else… he was entirely to close to America for comfort.

America sighed sadly but moved his arm. "You know, we hardly ever spend any time together any more, not since…" He cut off suddenly and turned his face away from England, realising he had nearly spoken about a touchy subject.

England nodded stiffly even though America couldn't see him but otherwise he made no attempt to reply, not wanting to get onto that subject. It was still too raw for him to deal with.

Abruptly, America let out a laugh. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't wanna spend your day with me anyway, right? Hardly the best company!"

"Idiot. There isn't a day that I don't want to bloody well spend with you." England bowed his head again and clutched his mug tightly. After a few seconds of awkward silence he realised what he had just said. "I-I mean… I've missed you that's all." He frowned and blushed more. He was just making it worse.

America shifted closer to England and lifted his chin with a finger, meeting his green eyes. England stared into America's blue eyes and tried not to blush more at the contact. God, why was he acting like such a fool?

"England… it's probably quite dumb to ask… but, if I kissed you… would you punch me again?" America didn't wait for a reply but he leant down and kissed England softly on the lips, feeling the smaller nation automatically respond and wrap his arms around his neck. When he broke off the kiss, England muttered "Bloody git…" under his breath and kissed America again.


End file.
